


Sometimes You Have to Choose

by Tarlan



Category: Traders (TV 1995)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-14
Updated: 2008-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to choose, and sometimes you have no choice at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You Have to Choose

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ **smallfandomfest** challenge prompt: Traders - Grant/Jack - choices

He first met Grant in a park on a bright, warm day, watching the eccentric recluse feeding pigeons and squirrels for several minutes before approaching him, using his negotiating skills to convince Grant Jansky to head up the Derivatives section at Gardner-Ross. Looking back through the years, he recalled bringing Grant into the office, feeling a little proprietary over the smaller man, his hands lingering on Grant's shoulders as he introduced him before leading him to the small closet that he'd had Donald turn into an office just for Grant. He remembered leaving Grant in there with Donald, a computer, and a pile of Hershey bars, unable to resist coming back later in the day just to make sure this vulnerable man had settled in.

Jack can't recall the exact day he met Ann. One day he turned around to find that she'd been there for some time, and that he liked her smile as much as he liked Grant's happy, infectious grin.

On the day he believed he had lost everything to a bad diamond mine deal, Jack discovered that some people held friendship higher than money. While others stayed away, not wanting to be tainted by his misfortune, Grant was the one who picked up the pieces of Jack's broken life, visiting him in jail where he had been sentenced to three days for contempt of court. He knew Grant simply wanted him to see a friendly face, to know that he had not been forgotten or abandoned but all Jack felt at the time was shame. He had lost everything; his money, his car, his home....his status. Though he wouldn't admit it then, Grant was the one who gave him the hope and strength he sorely needed to see it through another night in jail, though he also learned that Grant had paid off his cell mate to protect him from another beating while inside.

Jack could not help feeling a little resentful at the time because he had always taken care of himself, never needing anyone to protect him.

Ann was his betrayer in that terrible diamond deal, the person whose avarice was stronger than friendship but he recalled forgiving her when she tried to make amends for following her greedy, money-making instincts by putting those same skills into use helping him regain some of what he had lost. For a long time, he believed he fell in love with her that day but now he wondered if it was simply gratitude. Months would pass before he discovered how much he owed Grant. Grant had put almost every cent he owned into a silent, almost untraceable partnership, giving Jack the boost of funds he needed to take back a part of Gardner-Ross and, in doing so, he helped Jack regain some of his former status and dignity. He'd already known that he had Grant to thank for the roof over his head, for the food on the table, and now he owed him for the helping hand that got him back on the bottom rungs of the ladder that he had tumbled from so gracelessly.

Grant never said a word, and he never asked for a single penny in return but Jack made sure every last cent was paid back.

When Ann took a heroin overdose and almost died, it felt like another betrayal. This woman who seemed so perfect was so flawed, so mercenary in one way, so dependent in others and Jack had to step back, unable to cope with the idea of caring that much about this one undeserving person. On that same day, he discovered the depth of Grant's love for Ann, that Grant had sat with her in the hospital through the night when no one else had wanted to be anywhere near her. Waves of jealousy had rushed over him that day, and anger too, that Grant would hide this from him, would willingly step aside to allow Jack to be happy with the person they both loved. Yet after that revelation, he didn't rush to the hospital to be at Ann's side, but his heart skipped a beat in fear when he heard Donald say the word _cocoon_. He raced across town to the apartment, breaking into Grant's room and pulling the man into his arms. In his heart, he had already lost Ann and that hurt, and yet losing Grant too would be more than he could endure.

If he closed his eyes, Jack could still recall the feel of Grant in his arms, his smaller yet strong male body pressed up tight to Jack's chest, head pushed against his neck, feeling the fine new bristles on his beardless face rasp across Jack's cheek as he clutched at Jack in desperation. The scent of him had filled the air, that slightly unwashed, cocoon-warm scent and musk that Jack had forever associated with Grant. No chocolate though, and no coffee aroma mingled within that familiar male scent. He smelled good though, and he felt good in Jack's arms, and Jack had never felt more needed in his life than at that moment.

He'd gone back to Ann with Grant's encouragement, with Grant's blessing, and if he missed those stronger arms holding him so tightly then he pushed the thought aside viciously, concentrating on another person who needed him more.

Ann's death hit both of them hard. He can still recall his bitterness and his determination to find the ones who placed a bomb in her car, barely sparing a thought for Grant because if he gave way to the grief then he would drown in it, would down in Grant's pain as well as his own. Instead, he watched coldly from the sidelines as others comfort Grant and then accepted Grant's help to trace the killers all the way back to Jean Paul Brunet and his mercenaries.

Faking his own death was easy when a man had access to 175 million Canadian dollars. The interest alone for a single day was enough to buy off the woman who has been ordered to kill him. The corrupt police on the island filed the death and informed all the right authorities, and Jack Larkin ceased to exist almost at the cost of Grant's sanity.

He bitterly regretted that, wishing he could have told Grant his intentions but the guileless man might have given the game away out of misguided loyalty, the same way he had almost destroyed everything else by trusting Sally Ross. Most of the money was gone, stolen out of his account by Sally with Grant's unwitting help, but Jack had learned from the diamond mine loss never to put all his assets in one place. He had siphoned off all the interest into a separate account. Admittedly, it wasn't millions but it was more than enough to start over on a quiet life away from all the hurt and pain in Toronto.

Two years passed but Jack could not shake the image of Grant from his mind, nor could he shake the memories of holding Grant close, of laughing with him, touching him. He couldn't forget the compassion, the loyalty and the adoration that would shine in Grant's eyes, the pure unassuming friendship and sweet declaration of love that went beyond physical boundaries. With Grant, gender didn't matter. It was just a covering of skin and a different set of organs on the outside. To Grant, what mattered was inside the head and heart of a person, or more, what he thought was inside. Jack hated not being there to protect him from those who would abuse Grant's trust and affection.

It took those two years for Jack to realize that, of all the people he had known in his life, Grant was the one he wanted to see again, needed to see.

By now he had made a life for himself away from prying eyes. Perhaps not the life of Riley but it was a good life, and it was easy to keep abreast of news at Gardner-Ross-Cunningham because, for a small bank, they played well in the big world of finance.

When he heard of Grant's plunge into paranoia though, all common sense left him. He thought he had left Grant in secure hands, loyal hands, but one by one they'd deserted Grant, leaving him to fend for himself in an increasingly hostile world. By the time Jack reached Toronto with his newly acquired, fake passport, Grant had regained his sanity only to be faced with another crisis when Marty was shot and left for dead.

Standing in the shadows in the hospital, Jack felt awe struck when he saw Grant, his heart racing, trying to beat its way out of his chest. He looked good with his hair a little longer and incredibly young with his face still beardless. His eyes were haunted by tragedy, though, and Jack wished with all his heart that he could simply step out of the shadow and reach for Grant, pull him into his arms and tell him he'd never leave him again. Instead, he watched as Ziggy persuaded Grant to take his medication. Marty's wife came out and spoke with them, and Jack could see the relief in Grant's expressive face, followed by a happy smile that lit his entire face.

He'd missed that smile so much, the way Grant's blue eyes danced with joy over the simplest things; a word, an action, a smile returned.

Marty's wife headed back towards the intensive care ward leaving Grant and Ziggy alone once more.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay...or I could take you home?"

Grant looked a little confused, not sure whether to nod or shake his head. He settled for words instead. "No. I'm fine. I think I'll stay a little longer."

She stared at him in uncertainty but then reached up and squeezed his arm before walking away quickly, glancing back only once. Jack swallowed hard. It was time to make his choice but, looking back on the past, he wondered if he hadn't already made that choice on a warm day in the park all those years ago when he chose to entwine his life with Grant's. Cautiously, he stepped out of the shadow, his movement drawing Grant's eyes, seeing the slight tilt of head, the parted lips and then the spread of happiness across his face.

"Jack?" He whispered, taking several steps forward before he faltered and his smile fell.

Jack understood, aware of the paranoia and hallucinations that had held Grant at their mercy all too recently. "I'm real."

So many emotions crossed the handsome face in the span of a few seconds; grief and shock, betrayal and bitterness, sorrow and wariness, and then all the negativity flowed away leaving only tired joy.

"It was all a ruse. You tricked them. You're not dead." His eyes widened and he began to glance around the place frantically, rushing forward to grab Jack's arm and drag him back into the shadows. He stilled as he looked directly into Jack's eyes. "You came back."

Jack nodded. "I came back for you."

"Okay."

Jack barked out a laugh, shocking himself when he realized this was the first time he had laughed in two years. "Okay," he repeated, wondering why he was amazed that it should be so simple with Grant.

This time, he did not stand awkwardly when Grant wrapped his arms around him, pressing himself as close as humanly possible to Jack. Instead, he laughed again and tightened his hold right back, dipping his head and breathing in the scent of Grant, warm and heavy in his arms, where he belonged.

***

 **Epilogue:**

Sunlight filtered between the slats on the blinds, striping the floor and the edge of the bed, and slowly moving across the sleeping man. Jack leaned up against the pillows and watched, unable to stop smiling as it reached the gentle swell of his lover's ass, the still pale flesh glowing warmly. He could not resist leaning over to add his own caress, fingers grazing soft skin and slipping into the valley between the firm cheeks to brush over the still loosened hole. The air was heavy with a now familiar scent of Grant and sex and clean sweat. It clung to the sheets and to Jack's body, mingling with his own scent, a heady combination that filled him with renewed desire.

"If only the flesh was willing," he whispered, knowing he wasn't going to get it up again for at least an hour. By then they would be out on the fine-grain sandy beach, walking along the shore, laughing as they dodged the small waves that threatened to lap against their toes.

On Jack's advice, Grant had left a message on Ziggy's phone before they caught the first available flight out of Toronto, telling her he needed to go away for a while but promising to email. In the two months since, Jack knew Grant had emailed often, hiding his address through a dozen encrypted servers across the world, offering reassurance that all was fine but giving nothing away. One day, Jack hoped that could change but, for now, it was just him and Grant.

He smiled as Grant moaned softly, stretching languidly as he slowly awakened to a new day in paradise.

Sometimes you just had to choose and, to his shame, Jack realized he would have chosen Ann if she had lived, though he would have regretted that choice in time.

Sometimes you had no choice, but as loving Grant came under that heading, Jack had no regrets at all.

THE END


End file.
